Sibling Love
by theschizokid
Summary: Rated T for the f-word! Hanabi-centric oneshot, and it's a leeetle dark-ish. Read and Review please! Would really appreciate it! And no, it isn't yuri.


~Hanabi oneshot~

_They're staring again._

The notion floats ever so carefree into the confines of her brain, planting itself firmly in her chamber of secrets. It sprouts.

_Even though I'm walking ahead with my head held high, my eyes trained only on the empty pathway ahead of me… I know they're staring._

It festers into something bigger, uglier. A pot boiling over, the thought branches out into more reflections in her mind, landing on the fertile land and morphing into new possibilities.

_I hate this._

She pauses, her feet stop moving completely. Her previous automaton-like state ceases to function as she turns her head, realizing that the attention of the passers-by is no longer focused onto her. Her own pair of curious cursed eyes follows theirs, and they fall onto the frame of The Pitiful One.

_Oh God._

She gasps, and for a moment she forgets to breathe. Her mouth goes dry as The Pitiful One notices her, as The Pitiful One smiles slowly, as if she were building it up much like how one would build a fort. She suddenly notices her clammy hands, and she hurriedly wipes them on her shirt. But The Pitiful One is not going leave it as that.

_Hell no._

Her mind ceases to function as The Pitiful One lifts her arm ever so slowly, and she feels her body go cold as The Pitiful One waves.

_Fuck._

She gives no response, only scoffing and turning her head back to her original position. She feels her legs grow into lead as she wills herself to just Goddamn _move_, as she feels the stares of a hundred pairs of eyes trained onto her petite body.

_Fuck this._

Her mind goes limp once again, and before she can stop herself, she has broken out into a run. She runs and runs, a slave to her aimless emotions. The girl flees the town, entering the forest where she saw tens of hundreds of people fall to the ground, never to rise again.

_Fuck you._

Her brain flashes back to innumerable instances, and by the time she has collapsed at the foot of a majestic tree in the heart of the vegetation, her face is hot and there is water coming out of her eyes. She grasps the sides of her head with her hands, trying in vain to calm herself.

'_She doesn't resemble her mother or her sister at all. Coarse and rude, just like her father.'_

She hugs her knees, her shoulders shivering even though it is in the middle of summer. In her mind's eye, she sees her mother go to The Pitiful One, smiling and laughing and clutching so desperately to the other's existence. Behind her closed lids she feels her father's steely, demanding gaze on her small frame.

'_Sometimes strength and smarts don't get you everywhere, don't you think?'_

She remembers the time she missed out on three days' worth of sleep straight, trying to perfect a particularly complicated technique. On the fourth day she made it look as if she'd spent only ten minutes perfecting it, and everyone had placed a smiling mask over their real faces, heaping praises and sweet words to her father when inside all she wanted to do was collapse right there and then.

'_In the end, she's just a little power-grabber, snitching on her own sibling to gain power.'_

A scream escapes from her strangled throat, clogged full of bottled up rage. She recalls the cold eyes of her elders; aloof and unforgiving, just like her father, just like those starry-eyed townsfolk. She recollects her father's booming voice just minutes before she had left the manor today, remembers how his voice shook just a little bit, how he refused to meet her perfected steel gaze.

'_I made a mistake.'_

Another scream.

'_A mistake.'_

Just how the hell was The Pitiful One better than she was? How? _She_ was the stronger one, the one who pushed herself to her limits and beyond; even when she couldn't feel her damn fingers she practised her strikes. _She_ was the forceful one, always asserting her authority like she was freaking _taught to_, never backing down till she won a fight the right way. _She_ was the smarter one; she was _never_ at a loss for words, whether they were witty comebacks or logical rebuttals.

'_Forgive me.'_

She had smiled like the perfect little daughter she was, and she said she already had, but deep inside she knew. She knew she could never – _never_ – forgive him for his "mistake".

'_Go.'_

So she did. She had intended to go to the Hokage Tower and beg for something she hadn't quite figured out yet – a suicidal A-rank mission or something – but on her way there she had encountered The Pitiful One.

'_Looks like that troublemaker got her just desserts.'_

Her shame bled onto her cheeks, and she lifted her head up to embrace the sunlight. The sickening laugh reverberated through her brain, reminding her of her unforgivable failure. She felt another tear slip down her face, and she swallowed hard as she closed her eyes.

'_Good riddance.'_

She reaches for a blade in her weapons pouch, a handy little item forever attached to her trousers. Funny, isn't it, how she lost quite a few brain cells mulling over how she would be able to integrate her little toolkit into her kimono garb when she ascended. She sees The Pitiful One when she lifts her dominant hand to the sultry curve of her throat.

'_Little piece of sibling-snitching shit.'_

She draws the blade across slowly, so that she can feel her humiliation bleed out of her body. It isn't deep, but nobody isn't going to look for her anytime soon. She gurgles a little bit, but settles herself rather calmly against the tree, her eyes semi-closed as she thinks she sees The Pitiful One crouching in front of her.

'_Everything's going to be okay, Hanabi. Trust me.'_

She chokes on her disgrace just as she thinks she sees The Pitiful One smile.


End file.
